


Not The Best First Time

by miera



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Aphrodisiacs, Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:06:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Medical intervention is required.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not The Best First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Some consent issues present. I got a random idea for AMTDI fic while these two kids are in the "quietly pining" stage. I'm not particularly comfortable with dubcon or noncon fic so every time I write AMTDI fic I end up working overtime to minimize the consent problems, however we're still dealing with some of them here.

Something was up, that was obvious. Dr. M'Benga had been summoned down to the planet's surface by Commander Spock, and a short while later M'Benga had called curtly for additional supplies. From what she overheard, Christine suspected the Captain was having another allergic reaction to something. It must be bad, if Leonard needed assistance from another doctor.

Dr. McCoy, she scolded herself. She shouldn't be thinking of him as Leonard, not even in her head. Because eventually she'd slip and say it aloud, and he'd either look at her like she'd suddenly grown another head, or give her the _other_ look, the one that suggested he maybe didn't see her as just the head nurse and a fellow Starfleet officer, but as an attractive woman who had pictured him naked more times than she cared to admit.

Working with the man by all rights should have killed any lustful thoughts she ever harbored about him, as he could be a royal pain in the ass to deal with. Yet Christine found herself respecting his work and even growing fond of his cantankerous personality, because it couldn't quite conceal the big, vulnerable heart underneath the gruff exterior.

Desire she could have worked through, but affection was harder to battle, and she had given up by now. But the entire ship knew about his ugly divorce and she had a feeling he wasn't quite ready. And to be fair, she was bearing some emotional scars of her own still.

She reminded herself to be patient and was about to log off duty when she got a message from Uhura that she needed to beam down to the surface. Whatever was wrong with the Captain must have been worse than anyone had thought. Christine grabbed a medkit just in case and headed for the transporter room.

She arrived on the surface of Jayus IV and found herself alone with Captain Kirk. She startled. "Sir?"

"Lieutenant, thank you for coming. We have a bit of a mess on our hands."

She registered belatedly that he couldn't be the sick person, clearly, and that he looked far more serious than usual. Her stomach lurched. "It's Dr. McCoy isn't it."

He nodded. "I guess Bones was so worried about watching out for my allergies he didn't consider his own," Kirk said, rubbing his face wearily. "What I'm about to tell you has to stay in confidence, Lieutenant. It's not to be discussed or mentioned in any reports to Starfleet, or to anyone on the ship. Are you okay with that?"

She nodded back, unable to speak through the fear lodged in her throat.

Kirk launched into the story. "We were served some sort of wine at the banquet. Everyone was fine, but Dr. McCoy began to sweat and become disoriented. The Jayuusian physicians examined him and realized he was having a rare allergic reaction to the wine. Apparently there are certain families that have a genetic disposition to this, and they avoid using the stuff, but its safe for the rest of the population. It wasn't served to me for that reason, but Dr. McCoy's reaction is fairly severe."

Kirk paused, giving her long enough to wonder why M'Benga wasn't the one explaining this. If they needed medical assistance, why was she here? Why didn't they beam McCoy back to Enterprise?

The Captain's ears were turning red and she realized in fascination that he was blushing. She'd never seen him do that before. But he met her eyes. "The wine is acting as an aphrodisiac, Christine. The physicians here said that the effects could be counteracted by the neurochemical changes resulting from sex, which is how they usually treat the problem. But M'Benga tried synthesizing the endorphins and neurotransmitters necessary, and it didn't work."

For one unholy moment, Christine almost burst out laughing. The idea seemed preposterous, like something Len would tell her about after spending a few hours cursing at the Captain in Sickbay and the two of them would sit in his office howling together over the whole thing. But Jim was utterly serious. This was really happening, and she realized why _she_ had been summoned instead of one of the other doctors.

"There's no hope it'll wear off?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. "The longer it goes on, the more his brain chemistry is going out of whack. Without relieving the stress on his system, there could be permanent damage."

Oh God. She felt ill. She breathed in through her mouth, trying to think like a nurse. The patient was in critical condition. Intervention was needed. This was no different than surgery, than any other medical intervention to save a patient's life. What she blurted out, though, was, "He's in an altered state." Whatever hopes she might have about Leonard's feelings for her, that didn't equal agreeing to sleep with her.

Jim looked away. "I know. But someone has to help him. If we don't, what could happen to him would be worse than death." Off her look, he shook his head. "I know Bones, Christine. Anything that any of us does to help him right now, no matter the personal ramifications, he'd rather that than lose his mind."

She couldn't really argue with that, and if the situation was reversed, she'd probably feel the same way.

The Captain continued, "If I could do this for him, I would, but I'm pretty positive I'm not his type." He smiled a little, and she did too, though she had no doubt that he meant it. Jim Kirk had a lot of flaws, but lack of loyalty to his crew, and especially his friends, was not one of them.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why he had summoned her, but there wasn't much point. Clearly the almost-flirtation between her and Len hadn't gone unnoticed. At the least, she thought somewhat hysterically, she could bet that Len had admitted to the captain that he found her attractive at some point. That didn't comfort her all that much.

"Where is he?"

Kirk turned and led her down the hallway. No one else was around, at least that she could see. He seemed to read her thoughts. "It's a private room. No monitors or cameras or anything. M'Benga left the supplies he brought in there." Jim took a breath. "I'm not ordering you to do this, I just want to make that clear."

She nodded. "I know that, Captain." She wasn't going to let Len suffer permanent consequences to a freak accident of genetics, no matter what.

"Okay." He gestured to the door controls. "There's a communicator on the table, in case you need anything."

"Thanks."

He opened his mouth to say something else, then closed it and walked away. Christine was left staring at the door and wondering if she was going to wake up from this sometime soon.

 _Nope, this is real, Christine. Your friend and colleague is on the other side of that door and he needs your help, so straighten up and go in there_.

She pushed the button and the door slid open. She stepped inside and let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting. There was a strange scent in the air.

She spotted him as the door closed behind her. Len was staring at her, looking horrified. Great. She set the kit down and approached him, wishing she'd had more time to prepare herself for this.

He backed away from her, up against the wall, shaking his head. "No, no, Christine, don't come any closer."

He'd only used her first name a handful of times before, and her heart broke a little to hear it now. She stepped in front of him. He had his hands behind his back and his eyes were pleading with her.

"It's okay, Len. It's going to be okay."

He was still shaking his head. "Chris, I can't... I'm not in control of myself. Please, get out of here before I..." He bit down on his lip and despite the situation, a flare of hunger sprang up inside her groin.

She reached up and framed his face with her hands. His skin was flushed and damp with sweat and his pupils were dilated. She could see his pulse pounding in his throat. She tugged him a little so that his forehead was resting against hers. He closed his eyes and she cursed the Jayuusians and Starfleet and the whole universe for putting them in this position, but there was nothing for it. "Let me help you, Len."

She tilted her head and kissed him. It was monstrously unfair that their first kiss had to be like this. She tasted salt and had to slide her fingers into his hair to keep him from trying to pull away. Even as he moved he was kissing her back, though. His hands went to her hips, holding on tight. He was shaking with the effort to restrain himself against the powerful drug in his system. Impulsively, she gave in to a long-held desire and bit down on his lower lip hard enough to sting.

He moaned and a heartbeat later his tongue was in her mouth and his hands were roaming over her back. The kiss was fierce and possessive and heat flooded through her. It was everything she'd imagined kissing him would be, leaving her with no strength to think. Which was probably for the best.

When she drew away to breathe, his hands were up under her uniform, fondling her backside, and he rubbed his cheek against hers. He nipped at her jaw even as he mumbled against her skin, "Chris, I can't stop myself from..."

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly, pressing her entire body against him, making him gasp. She could feel his erection jutting against her belly. He had to be in pain by now, after this many hours. Trying to battle the aphrodisiac in his system wasn't going to do any good at this point. She licked his neck, gathering the salty taste on her tongue and he shuddered. "I want you," she murmured in his ear. She bit his earlobe for good measure. "Now."

His control snapped. Christine was pushed across the open space to the bed and she fell onto it with a thump. He was on top of her before she could do more than blink, kissing her roughly while his hands pushed her skirt up. He struggled with her underwear, first with getting it off her and then tugging it down her legs while he was kneeling between them. Eventually he got one foot free and that seemed to be enough, because he moved back above her.

She reached for his pants, knowing that every minute this took was making it worse, but he barked at her, "Stop." She froze, unsure what was wrong. Despite the aphrodisiac he seemed cognizant of his surroundings. He had to know this was why she'd come in here.

He was staring down at her, his eyes nearly black. "Don't move," he practically growled.

His fingers slid between her thighs and began to rub her clit. She was only mildly aroused, but underneath the fog of the drug in his system, his medical knowledge was clearly intact, because she could feel herself growing wet as he circled her clit lightly at first, then with increasing pressure.

He was watching her like a hawk, and she wondered if he was always this intense or if it was just the aphrodisiac making him so silent and serious. When she'd imagined this, she always hoped he would be smiling and enjoying himself. This wasn't making love, she reminded herself. This was a medical treatment. She closed her eyes and focused on his fingers, on how long it had been since anyone had touched her, and on how intently he was watching her.

He pulled away as she was starting to squirm against the bed. He stripped off his clothes until he was naked, his cock fully erect and bright, dark red. The ache between her legs intensified at the sight of him nude and she reached for him. He settled in the cradle of her hips, propping himself up with one arm. He guided his cock into her with his other hand, sliding all the way in quickly, and she gasped as her body stretched around him. She hadn't been with anyone in months and it burned.

Len had his eyes closed and the look on his face wasn't so much blissful ecstasy as relief. He started moving almost immediately, thrusting into her with short, sharp movements. It wasn't painful but she needed a different angle and stimulation to orgasm. She pushed the thought away – this wasn't for her pleasure. He was being more considerate of her comfort than she would have expected, if she'd had long enough to think about it at all.

It took a matter of seconds before Len was taking her hard and his face was red and he was panting. She moved with him, holding on tight, running her hands over the tense muscles in his back, and he jerked above her. She felt him come, wondering distantly if they'd set some sort of time record.

Some of the tension left his body and he buried his face in her neck, holding some of his weight on his elbows. Christine wrapped her arms around him, ruffling his hair with her fingers, telling herself it was for the best that this had been over quickly.

"I'm sorry," he muttered against her throat. She wasn't sure what he was apologizing for until he shifted and she realized he was still hard inside of her.

Christine cursed to herself. He'd been suffering the effects for hours. It made sense that one orgasm in a few minutes wasn't going to be enough.

His mouth moved up her neck and her jaw before he pulled away to look down at her. Despite the evidence between her legs, she thought he looked slightly more lucid. His eyes flicked over her body and he licked his lips. She whimpered a little.

His voice was rough. "Chris, I want to see you."

She nodded, sitting up as he leaned back. He helped her shed her uniform and her bra, so that she was naked of everything but her boots. She leaned back on her arms as he started to touch her, his fingers skimming over her collarbone. She shivered as he brushed over her breasts, her nipples hardening under the light touches.

He pushed her back and then bent down, his mouth covering her breast. He suckled and she grabbed his head, arching up and encouraging him. He sucked harder, his teeth tugging at her nipple and she wrapped her legs around his hips. She was rocking against him, she realized as he switched to her other breast, her body now wet and tight around his cock.

Her hands ran over his back, her nails scratching him lightly. He shifted his weight, one hand slipping between them while he mouthed kisses up her throat again. He covered her lips with his as he started fucking her in earnest, moving in counterpoint to the way his finger was rubbing at her clit. It felt incredible. She moaned, kissing him back urgently, pushing up and meeting his thrusts eagerly now, needing more of him, wanting the climax that was approaching rapidly.

He pulled his mouth away, licking her cheek and muttering, "Come for me, Chris. I need you to come for me, _please_."

Her fingers were digging into his shoulder and she twisted under him, nodding. "Don't stop. I'm close, oh God, Len, I'm almost... I'm... _ohhhh_." Her whole body tightened and then melted as pleasure poured through her. She clung to him blindly as he pounded into her, cursing between clenched teeth as he came again.

This time he collapsed entirely, and as she stretched her legs, she felt his cock softening inside her. Through the post-coital buzz, she abruptly remembered why she was here. That might not be it, but hopefully he was out of danger.

Len sank more firmly onto her, his whole body going slack. He was threatening her breathing, and actually started to snore lightly. Christine started to laugh. She couldn't help it – this was like a bad cliché where the man fell asleep immediately afterwards. Except the sex had been good. She pushed that thought out of her mind.

She managed to plant a foot and get some leverage to shove him off her and onto his side. He burrowed into a pillow and grunted, his arm fumbling to drag her close. She lay there, cuddled up against him for a little while, her mind still racing. She slipped free eventually and cleaned them both up. Len didn't wake and she didn't see any signs of his arousal returning. Resigned, she found the communicator and called the Captain. The medical crisis was hopefully over.

She just hoped the aftermath of this mess wouldn't destroy her friendship with her boss.

Len slept for nearly ten hours, and she wasn't there when he woke up, deciding that it might be easier for him to grapple with the experience without having to deal with seeing her at the same time. The Captain gave her the option of taking the next day off, which she accepted. It was slightly cowardly, but Len would have to come to Sickbay to be checked out and she didn't want to see him in that setting. She did decide to go speak to him in his quarters that evening. They could have a mature talk about what had happened and find a way to keep working together, hopefully.

He showed up at her door an hour before she was planning to go see him. She blushed beet red in spite of all her rational intentions.

She let him in without a word and for a long, painful couple of minutes they stood in awkward silence. Finally he scrubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know what the hell to say, Chris."

She rolled her eyes. "You could start with 'thank you'."

He nodded seriously. "Thank you. What you did for me was... it was well beyond the call of duty."

"It wasn't just duty, Len," she told him softly.

He didn't meet her eyes. "Friendship, then. I just wanted to stop by and make sure..." He folded his arms across his chest, biting his lip. "I can't remember everything. I needed to be sure that... that I didn't hurt you or-"

"No," she cut him off emphatically. His words reminded her of Roger and the way he would treat her like a fragile china doll regardless of what she told him. She didn't want Leonard thinking of her that way. "No, you didn't hurt me. I'm not made of glass, Len."

That got him to look at her, and the guilt on his face made her heart ache.

"God, Christine, I'm so sorry."

She closed the distance between them and grabbed his hand. "You have _nothing_ to be sorry about, Len. Nothing. It wasn't your fault." Her throat closed over as her own guilt welled up. "You didn't do anything wrong. I was the one who was sober-"

His finger pressed against her lips, stopping her recriminations. "You saved me, Christine. You did what needed to be done. I've looked at the data and M'Benga was right. I would've suffered permanent damage without intervention. I'd rather have died than had to live like that."

He touched her cheek and she leaned into his hand, not wanting him to pull away yet. "I wouldn't have let that happen. _We_ wouldn't have let that happen to you."

Len pulled her closer and his forehead rested against hers again. Neither one of them spoke right away.

"I do regret that it was... like that," she admitted. She wanted him to understand, even if there was no hope now for anything in the future, after what had happened. Her stomach fluttered nervously at telling him the truth. "I mean, our first time, that it was like that."

She couldn't read his expression but he licked his lips and nodded. "Yeah, it wasn't exactly what I was picturing either," he said ruefully.

Something in her sagged in relief. "So, you too?" She smiled a little.

"Oh yeah," he told her. "For a while now. But I didn't want to pressure you, or rush into anything."

Christine snorted. "So much for not rushing, huh?"

He chuckled but his face flushed with embarrassment and something inside her melted that he could be bashful about anything with her at this point. Her eyes caught on his lips and they both went still.

"Can I kiss you now?" she asked in a whisper, hoping this wasn't the wrong thing to do.

He nodded silently and she stretched up and brushed her lips lightly against his. Len's arms slid around her back, but the kiss stayed gentle and low-key, both of them testing the waters now that no one was in danger. It was still enough to make her heart speed up and her body flush with pleasure, but she pulled away when the kiss ended.

Len was looking at her with a mix of hunger and hope and her mind traitorously suggested that they could go ahead and replace the memories of the previous day with newer, better ones right now. But she wanted this to be right, for both of them.

"What do we do now?" he asked uncertainly.

Her thumb stroked along the nape of his neck and she took a steadying breath. "Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?"

Len grinned at her, the first real smile she'd seen in more than 24 hours. "Christine Chapel, are you asking me on a date?"

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully. "I'm assuming you're secure enough to let the woman do the inviting, McCoy. Don't disappoint me."

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. "I never want to do that," he told her, kissing the back of her hand, and she shivered at the intensity of his voice. "And yes, I will have dinner with you tomorrow."

She brushed another kiss against his mouth and then shooed him out the door. They were still going to have to take this slow, she knew that. But hopefully they'd get a second chance for a first time – a real one.


End file.
